


The Perks of Flight Delays

by shutter_waves_break



Category: Almighty Johnsons, Being Human, Crossover AU - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutter_waves_break/pseuds/shutter_waves_break
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU crossover: Anders' plane is delayed in London while on his way to Norway. He meets Mitchell. And things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bar Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Because my sister asked for it. And because I love Anders Johnson like she loves John Mitchell. It starts off 'general' but gradually gets more .... interesting.

Bragi understood why Freya sent him to Norway to retrieve Yggdrasil, but Anders wanted nothing more than to stay in New Zealand and thought Agnetha was cruel for sending him to another hemisphere for a stupid tree branch.  She never mentioned it would be freezing.  Or maybe she did but he wasn’t really listening.  The idea of going to Norway on a secret mission was too cool.  Not to mention he’d get to meet new people, and fornicate on new continents.  He didn’t tell Agnetha that though; she was his mum and all.  Granted, absent for many years of his life, but still.  Awkward.  He still can’t believe he hit on her that day in his office.  

Looking out the window of his hotel, he really couldn’t complain about the cold weather considering he was stuck in London.  His flight to Oslo got rerouted to Heathrow due to ‘inclement weather.'  The airline apologized, and since it was such an awful inconvenience (being Bragi had its perks), Anders got a free room at a nice hotel in the heart of London while he waited for his flight to reschedule.

5 to 7 days before he could leave, depending on the severity of the storm.

Fabulous.

In the meantime: London in the winter.  Pubs must be crawling with people warding off the cold with alcohol.  And London was bound to have some good-looking women.  Pocketing his phone and wallet, he remembered seeing a place – Dancing Horse, or something – a few blocks down the road.  He grabbed his jacket and headed out.

\- - -

Mitchell wasn’t a huge fan of going out and being among large groups of people.  It made it harder for him not to want to bite someone’s neck.  For George’s sake, he would endure.  Since Lauren appeared and made Mitchell feel like his entire existence was an abomination (which really, it was if he got right down to it), he felt the need to humor George in his attempts to find some sense of normalcy.  And that came with a price. 

Prancing Pony was a good pub – close to home and always buzzing with regulars, natives, and the occasional tourist.  There weren’t many of those since winter set in but every now and then, one would crop up, usually on a long layover.  Mitchell sat back and sipped his beer, trying to block out the smell assaulting his system.  Almost two months had passed since his last human.  And it didn’t get any easier.  He tried donor blood, but that made cravings worse, and he doubted the hospital would turn a blind eye to disappearing blood.

His dark eyes scanned the room, locking on George and his female companion at the bar.  He must have said something funny because she laughed and reached out to touch his arm. 

 _Good job, George_. He chuckled.  Poor George was so lost when it came to women, it was good to see him holding his own.

Mitchell was about to get another beer when he heard the door open and a new scent flooded his senses.  It wasn’t quite human, but not like him, or George, or anything other being he’d ever encountered.  Without drawing undue attention to himself (he noticed a few people staring his way when he stood up abruptly), Mitchell excused himself around people to make his way to the front of the bar, keeping George in his line of sight in case things got interesting.

He finished off his beer and set it on the counter, casually looking at the small groups to his left by the door.  Four people stood against the bar.  That sweet intoxicating scent grew stronger the further he moved down the bar.  It had to be one of them, but who?

As the bartender handed him another beer, a woman moved to the side and he made eye contact with a blonde man with piercing eyes and a wicked smile.

_Holy shit._

Mitchell’s mouth went dry and almost dropped his bottle as he tried to subtly step back to the corner he was in earlier.  If he could still blush he imagined his cheeks would be blazing from the heat in that stare.

He was in the process of regaining some kind of composure when a hand touched his shoulder and he spun around to meet those blue eyes again.

\- - -

‘Anders,’ he said, holding his hand out for the taller man to shake.  He cocked his head slightly as he felt the man’s cool hand slide into his and squeeze gently.

‘Mitchell,’ the man replied, eyes wide.  Anders couldn’t figure out if he was nervous, or crazy.

‘You’re not quite human, are you?’  The moment the words left his mouth, Anders noticed Mitchell freeze before forcing himself to relax.

He forced a laugh. ‘Um, I dunno-‘

Anders cut him off. ‘Not that it’s a bad thing.  I’m just saying, I’m not normally into guys but there’s something about you I kind of like.’  He smiled again before realizing what he’d just said, to another guy, in a bar.  He hid his face in his vodka glass thinking up a way to talk his way out of this before it went south.

\- - -

Mitchell stared at Anders for a moment.  This guy seemed so innocent and dangerous all at once.  He couldn’t hold back the laughter threatening to erupt.  Anders jumped and he saw his shoulders tense up.  He’s probably never hit on another man in his life.  Strangely, Mitchell didn’t feel weird about it.  In fact…

‘Are you always so forward?’ He asked, sipping his beer, strangely aware and comforted by the fact he noticed Anders staring at his mouth.

‘Usually. Sometimes. It depends really.’  Mitchell watched Anders relax his shoulders and raise the glass to his lips. ‘Is it working?’

Mitchell smiled and sucked his lower lip between his teeth.  What the hell was he doing?

‘Yea, it is.’


	2. It's A Social Experiment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is stuck in London while on his way to Norway. He meets Mitchell. After their awkward introduction, Anders and Mitchell get to know each other. And then it gets awkward again.

Mitchell watched Anders talk more than he really listened to what the man was saying. He laughed and commented at all the right times, but he was drawn to how Anders spoke. His mouth curved up a little every time he mentioned something he missed about home, and his eyes matched his mouth. Time seemed to slow down and suck Mitchell in, like being lulled into Anders’ bubble. And he liked it. Normally at this point he would feel the beginnings of bloodlust set in, but it was barely a dull thud in the back of his mind. It was probably due to all the people in the bar, and not directly related to Anders’ closeness. He liked that too. He was so caught up in Anders that he didn’t realize the other man staring at him expecting a response.

‘Did you year what I said?’

Mitchell blinked. ‘Sorry, you just have a beautiful face.’ The words just fell out of his mouth before he even realized what he’d said. Truly grateful he couldn’t blush, he shut his mouth quickly as his eyes widened. His shock disappeared when he noticed the faint pink flush across the bridge of Anders’ nose. ‘I mean, I’m listening but I like watching you talk.’ Not better, Mitchell. He scrubbed a hand down his face. ‘Not really helping myself, am I?’ he chuckled nervously, drawing his attention to a near empty beer bottle. He’d need another one soon.

‘You can make it up to me by getting me another drink,’ Anders said, downing the rest of his vodka.

Mitchell unconsciously licked his lips as Anders’ bared his throat. It wasn’t bloodlust he felt. It was just straight lust.

‘Sure thing,’ he said, winking as he stood up. Anders blushed a little more, and Mitchell mentally kicked himself as he made his way over to the bar.

\- - -

Anders couldn’t stop talking. He felt his mouth moving, saying whatever came into his head, and Mitchell just listened. It wasn’t until he asked a question and Mitchell just kept starting that he thought he’d lost his audience. Probably because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut long enough to let him get a word in edgewise. What he wasn’t expecting was Mitchell’s comment. Usually HE was the one making women blush, not that he was a woman, but he felt his face get hot and ducked his head to finish his vodka.

Mitchell going to get another drink gave him the opportunity to plan out what he was going to do. He’d never slept with another man before, and threesomes didn’t count because there was a girl involved and it was more about her than the other guy. And he hadn’t done a lot of those either, not with two guys anyway. That was just one cock too many in his opinion. But with Mitchell, he was actually considering it. He even seemed to be on the same page, but Anders didn’t want to risk rejection either. He’d need to sleep with a ton of women to get that out of his system. Then again, it’s not like he was back home in New Zealand hitting on a guy that he might run into again. Here, he’d be the only one aware of his failure. And chances are he wouldn’t be coming back to England ever again.

Why was he even considering this?! He wasn’t even gay!

‘Miss me?’ Mitchell sat down and slid Anders’ vodka across the table.

Anders’ hand curled around the glass. He narrowly stopped himself from responding, instead looked at his watch: 0115. He had been up for almost 20 hours, or however long with the time change and jet lag. He took a long drink of his vodka. It was now or never.

‘What’s up, man? You were chatty earlier.’ Mitchell cocked his head to side as if he was able to analyze what was running through Anders’ head. He didn’t know if that made him feel better, or more awkward.

‘Do you wanna get out of here? I mean, if you want. My hotel is a couple blocks away.’

\- - -

Mitchell froze. He knew this part was coming, and he also knew how it ended. Right now he didn’t feel like biting Anders’ neck, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel like it later when he got his shirt off and was able to touch his skin…

Shit.

He liked Anders, maybe a little more than he cared to admit out loud or even to himself. The silence drew out long enough that Mitchell realized Anders sat back stiffly and gripped his glass a little tighter.

He didn’t even know where to start. ‘I wish I could, but I don’t really do one night stands.’ THAT came off more dickish than he meant it too. ‘I mean, you’re a great guy and I’m sure we’d- I’ve had a good time, but you’re not going to be here for longer than a few days. And I hate to get involved with people who aren’t going to stick around…‘ It sounded lame even before the words were formed. Saying the words out loud made his chest hurt a little, and he really felt like a knob. The look on Anders’ face wasn’t helping either. Mitchell felt like he’d kicked a kitten: a gorgeous blonde, blue-eyed kitten.

‘Its not that I don’t like you, cuz I do. I really do,’ he really should just STOP TALKING. ‘But we just met-‘

Anders cut him off. ‘Don’t worry about it, yea? I get it. I’ll be gone and you won’t remember my name.’ Mitchell watched as he reached into his pocket and removed his wallet. He was about to protest and start over (which might not have been a good thing) when George walked over, a little more than just buzzed, with a brunette on his arm.

‘Hey,’ George slurred a little. ‘Me and uh…’

‘Nina,’ the girl said. Mitchell didn’t like it when she turned her gaze to Anders after introducing herself and looked at him like a piece of candy.

‘Yea, Nina!’ George continued. ‘We’re gonna head back to her place. You gonna be ok with your, uh, friend?’ George was not being subtle, or rude, or anything other than intoxicated. He knew George was not that great with women, so when he managed to find one to spend the night with, Mitchell was more than happy for him. But knowing that George was getting laid while he was abstaining, well, it didn’t help him any.

‘Actually,’ Anders interrupted before Mitchell could say anything. ‘I was just about to go.’ He dropped some bills on the table. ‘Good talking to you, Mitchell.’ He turned and looked at Nina, and taking her hand in his, he dropped a small kiss on her knuckles. Mitchell felt an abnormal sense of jealousy run through his body. He was supposed to be the one who felt those lips, not the cheap bar girl.

‘Nice to meet you too, Nina,’ Anders said.

At that moment, the jealousy Mitchell felt wasn’t what caught him off guard. It was Anders' words. Rather, the way Anders spoke to Nina. Nina flushed, and George stood there unaware of what happened. Mitchell knew the words weren’t directed to him, but he felt like they should have been. It was a weird feeling.

He moved to stand up but Anders was already walking away, not bothering to look back.

Mitchell felt like he’d missed something, or maybe it just the knot in his stomach telling him he’d just fucked up.

\- - -

As soon as Anders made it outside, he felt a little better. He should have known better than to try and get into Mitchell’s pants, no matter how hot he was. Maybe pulling out Bragi on Nina was a little fucked up, but Mitchell definitely reacted to it, which was odd. Normally only people he directed Bragi too knew or felt the desire.

Part of him had wanted to try it on Mitchell to see what would happen, but then it would have felt fake. And he didn’t want his first time with a guy to be like that.

Shit, what was he saying? He wasn’t gay, he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. No pun intended, he chuckled. It’s not like Mitchell was anything special anyway. And not like he would find out since the guy was such a prude. Bet he’d fucked tons of girls and was only stringing Anders along for shits and giggles. Yea, Anders felt like a douche for putting himself out there the way he had. At least now he knew to avoid that bar, at least at night, and he wouldn’t have to see the guy again. He could last the 5-6 days here.

He got to his hotel and pulled open the door. As he stepped inside, he caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows. Mitchell must still be on his mind because he swore the shadow had curly hair, and further dwelling on Mitchell just made Anders agitated. He needed to sleep; he’d figure shit out tomorrow, and hopefully get that blonde receptionist from earlier in the sack before he left.

\- - -

Mitchell stared at Anders’ vodka for a full minute before draining it. On his way out, he dropped the bills in front of the bartender and headed out the door. Years of being undead made him sly, and he knew how to move easily without being noticed. He hadn’t really noticed it in the bar around all the people, but Anders had a very interesting scent – even if Mitchell lost him, he’d still be able to follow the smell. It made him think of snow in the woods, a crisp clean smell, mixed with something sweet he couldn’t quite place. If this is how he smelled normally, Mitchell wondered what it was like when he was aroused.

STOP. JUST FORGET HIM AND GO HOME.

But he couldn’t. His feet kept him moving. When he rounded the corner and saw Anders pulling open a door to his hotel (presumably), he froze and stepped back. He saw Anders’ head turn but by the time Mitchell had convinced himself to just man up and go to him, he’d already disappeared inside.

Shoving his hands further into his pockets, he turned around and left. Anders said he’d be there for roughly five days – maybe he would get to see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister pointed out the irony of 'straight lust' and 'he clearly wasn't thinking straight.' *knee slapper* - Sometimes genius happens when you least expect it. I'm not sorry.


	3. The Rules of Proper Etiquette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is stuck in London while on his way to Norway. He meets Mitchell. They're both socially awkward. But only with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written with the aid of wine and good music. And a sister willing to correct my writing mistakes.

Anders lay in bed staring up at the boring white ceiling waiting for the girl to leave his room. He listened as she ran the faucet in the bathroom, flushed the toilet, and watched the shadows move across the room as she picked up her clothes. To her credit, she didn’t say anything about seeing him again. She just paused for a moment before walking out, shutting the door quietly behind her. And Anders just lay there trying to figure out what just happened, and why.

He really hadn’t meant to pick up the cute receptionist, it was just something he told himself to stop thinking about Mitchell. But he did, and he didn’t even really have to whip out Bragi. She was more than enthused over his offer of keeping him a little company after his night at the bar. And the sex was mediocre. He didn’t have a problem getting it up, thank you very much. So clearly he was straight, and was able to perform to her (and his) satisfaction. It didn’t really help his cause since she had curly brown hair. It was lighter than Mitchell’s, he could say that at least, and a little longer, but the image was still there. She was soft in all the places Anders believed Mitchell would be solid, and he probably wouldn’t moan as much as she did. Mitchell probably liked it a little rougher, liked having that thick mess of hair pulled, liked-

Dammit Anders! Shut the fuck up! His brain was on overload and the fact he’d gotten off twice still hadn’t sated his appetite for the tall man. Maybe avoiding him wasn’t going to play out in his favor very well. Maybe he should just man up, and maybe Bragi will give Mitchell the push he needs in Anders’ direction. Or he could just go to sleep for a few hours, or for the rest of his time in England.

Yea… sleep was a good idea.

\- - -

Mitchell woke up the next day feeling like a complete ponce. He needed to fix it, but he hadn’t the slightest idea how to even start. He couldn’t just show up to Anders’ hotel and confess everything. The showing up part might freak him out considering he hadn’t even told Mitchell where he was staying, much less what room.

He ran a hand down his face, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and tried to figure out if he should shave or not. It wasn’t too out of control and Anders seemed to like his scruff so maybe he could keep it for a few more days.

Then Anders would be out of his life for forever.

He must have fallen back asleep because the next thing he knew, George stood next to his bed in his scrubs shaking him.

‘You have a little under an hour to get ready. I’m not going to be late because you don’t want to get up,’ he shook his head. ‘I didn’t think you got hangovers.’

Might as well be with the way I feel. ‘Not a hangover. Just tired.’ He hoped that answer would be sufficient enough to quell George’s curiosity. He didn’t need his werewolf flat-mate blabbing to Annie and then it would be an intervention about why his crush on Anders was wrong on so many levels.

-An uneventful hospital shift passes during which Mitchell thinks of all the things he could say to Anders if he saw him again…-

Mitchell found himself back at the Prancing Pony with a beer in hand watching the door just in case Anders came back. George wanted to come and try his luck with the girl from last night, or any other girl. Neither of them mentioned Anders. He wasn’t sure that George even remembered the guy. He glanced to his left and saw George talking to a group, a couple of them Mitchell remembered seeing at the hospital.

In those few moments his attention was elsewhere, he felt a presence next to him and took a deep breath.

‘I thought about walking back out when I saw you sitting here.’ Anders motioned to the bartender and dropped a bill on the counter.

"You smell like sex," Mitchell blurted out, immediately horrified at himself for having said so. He should have just stayed home and read a book on proper etiquette rather than subject the rest of humanity to his eccentricities.

Anders just shrugged. ‘Jealous?’

He just held onto his beer and stared at the lines of wood on the counter. If he opened his mouth again, something ridiculous was sure to come out. He didn’t care if Anders slept with anyone. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was jealous that Anders could sleep with anyone he wanted because he didn’t have to worry about ‘fanging’ out on anyone. Asshole.

\- - -

When Anders walked into the bar, for a split second he thought about walking back out when he saw Mitchell at the counter. But Anders didn’t walk away from anything, or anyone. Fuck it. He was going to drink and enjoy his time in fucking London. And then Mitchell opened his mouth. How the hell did he know he had had sex? That was hours ago, and he showered. Twice.

‘Jealous?’ he asked, casting a sidelong glance at the man. His jaw ticked. ‘And how the hell did you know? You got like, a super smelling sense or something?’

He watched as Mitchell drank the rest of his beer and signaled for another. ‘Anyone with any sense would know you got laid. You don’t have to go parading it around for the rest of us.’

Now Anders was intrigued. And he kind of felt like being an ass since it was Mitchell that left him hanging last night. ‘Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such a prude last night…’

Mitchell turned his head sharply and Anders felt the glare burning into his temple. Now or never…

‘I’m in a forgiving mood tonight, so what say we pick up where we left off last night?’ Slipping into Bragi was easy, and he kind of liked the way it felt. Only a matter of time before Axl found his Frigg and he’d be unstoppable.

However, the reaction he got from Mitchell was not the one he had been expecting.

\- - -

Mitchell heard the change in Anders’ voice, and it felt warm. But he felt like he was being manipulated. Like a part of him was being dragged to the surface and he really didn’t feel like dealing with it.

‘You did it again.’

Anders at least had the presence of mind to look shocked. ‘Did what?’

‘That thing you did with the girl George introduced to us last night. Your voice gets all weird.’ Mitchell watched Anders’ eyes as they got slightly bigger. ‘Is it like a super power or something? And am I supposed to ‘bow to your will’ or whatever?’ He had said it jokingly but the look on Anders’ face stifled his desire to chuckle.

‘What are you?’

Now it was Mitchell’s turn to get nervous so he wrapped his hand around the new bottle tightly and focused his attention on the bottles decorating the wall. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was only joking, mate.’

He found himself being pulled off his barstool without so much as a ‘by your leave’ and hauled outside into the crisp air.

‘What the fuck, Anders?!’

The blonde man didn’t seem to hear him as he shoved Mitchell against the brick wall with a murderous glare in his eyes. ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

Now it was Mitchell’s turn to get pissed off. This fucker goes on to try and play mind games with him and HE’S in the wrong for catching it? He must have said it out loud because Anders backed off.

‘Look, we can’t talk about this here. I’m not comfortable and clearly you aren’t either.’ He glanced up and down the street. ‘My hotel-‘

‘-is right up the road, I know. I followed you the other night.’ Mitchell said guiltily.

\- - -

The minute Bragi saw the reaction Mitchell had to his words he knew it was wrong. The man shouldn’t be able to tell what was happening, he should have only felt desire. Anders already knew Mitchell wanted him; he didn’t need Bragi to see that. Bragi only brought it to surface and made it more likely for Anders to get what he wanted. What they both wanted.

Maybe hauling him out of the bar into the street was a bit extreme but he needed to know who or what he was dealing with. He was a god, for fuck’s sake! And then Mitchell drops the stalker card and Anders felt like punching him in the face.

‘So it WAS you last night!’ At least Mitchell had the decency to look guilty.

Mitchell shrugged. ‘What you said to that girl… And I just felt like the night ended on a bad note but you kept walking and I lost my nerve.’

Anders felt like Mitchell was holding something back by the way he looked at everything but Anders. He didn’t feel like discussing it here though.

‘Come on then. Seeing as you already know where you’re going it shouldn’t take long.’ He took off in the direction of his hotel, not bothering to see if Mitchell followed. His footsteps made almost no sound against the cobbles. If Anders already wasn’t so attuned to Mitchell, he wouldn’t have known the other man was a step behind him.

He moved like a ghost in a graveyard.

The thought sent a chill down Anders’ spine. Soon enough, everything would be out on the table.


	4. Its Probably Rude to Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is stuck in London on a long layover to Norway. He meets Mitchell, who isn't exactly human. Anders is a little nervous, and Mitchell is angsting, like all vampires do when they're about to reveal themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting for this late update! And also, please excuse typos and grammar issues- no beta, just me.

Mitchell followed close behind Anders, taking notice the man didn’t bother to look back to see if Mitchell was still there.  He could slip away at any moment completely unnoticed.  

 _But what would that get you, eh?  Probably wind up at home thinking about all the ways you messed up, again.  And I doubt Anders would appreciate being left out to dry, again._  

He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going and bumped into Anders as he stopped in front of his hotel. 

‘Time for that later,’ he winked and opened the door.

‘M’not a girl…’ he mumbled, but stepped through the open door regardless.  He noticed the young woman at the counter and how her eyes moved over him before looking at Anders.  The pinch of her lips was almost imperceptible.  

 _That’s probably the girl he slept with…_  Mitchell mused.  He glanced back and saw the smile Anders flashed her before turning his attention back to Mitchell.   _Yup…_  

\- - - - - 

Anders hadn’t been expecting the same girl to be working both nights.  And it would have been rude to completely ignore her considering the circumstances.  The brief smile he’d given her seemed to slightly improve her mood, but he noticed her eyes darting to Mitchell before going back to her computer.  A man is allowed to experiment every once in a while.  And if that ‘once’ happens to be with a somewhat complete stranger who is virtually unaffected by Bragi, then at least Anders can say he’s tried something he probably won’t get the chance to try again.  

The elevator took a phenomenally long time, and the unease of the situation stretched over them.  Anders was starting to think that maybe inviting Mitchell back to his room wasn’t the best idea, and thoughts of  _What if this guy is a serial killer?_  started to invade his head.   

When they finally got to his room Anders immediately grabbed the vodka  out of the fridge, got two glasses from the bathroom, and poured a generous amount into both.  Mitchell had staying in the mini living room and was pacing.  Anders set the cup down on the coffee table and sat down in the chair closest to the door.   _Just in case…_  

‘Should I go first? Or do you want the honors since, you know, you’re ‘the girl’ tonight?’  Anders quipped, taking note of the serious look on Mitchell’s face and immediately wiped the smile off his face and took a long drink.  And it burned. 

Mitchell just stared at the glass in front of him and ran a hand through his hair.  ‘I’m not good at this.  And if you freak out, I’ll leave and you won’t see me again, alright?’ 

Now Anders felt like maybe this really wasn’t a good idea.   _Shit._   And Mitchell must have seen the tension in his body because his eyes widened in panic.  

‘No, no I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise!  I’m not a psycho, really.  Just, you have to keep an open mind and try not to freak out until I’m done, ok?’ 

All sorts of things were flying through Anders’ head.  It’s not like his situation was unique: he was a norse god stuck on Earth.  And there were other gods from other cultures all over the place.  And he’s seen some pretty crazy shit.  So maybe Mitchell was one of those crazy freaky things that he hadn’t met yet and this was all gonna be ok because he’s a norse god dammit.   

‘Ok, open mind, don’t freak out til you’re done.  Got it.’  Anders leaned back in his chair.  

‘I’m a vampire.’ 

\- - - - -  

Mitchell was never good at telling people what he was.  And when he did they usually stared at him for a long while before deciding his company wasn’t what they were looking for.  So he kept it secret and never told anyone unless they already knew and had an inkling.  Never had anyone started laughing like Anders was doing right that very moment.  

‘It’s not funny!’ Mitchell sounded petulant, and a little whiny, but he really didn’t care.  He’d just revealed his true nature and Anders was laughing at him!

‘I’m sorry!’  Anders choked out, trying to reign in his laughter. 

‘No you’re not!  You’re still laughing!’  Mitchell flopped onto the small sofa and crossed his arms.  ‘What’s your big secret then, if mine is just so funny?’

Anders stopped laughing almost instantly.  ‘Wait… you’re serious.’

Mitchell closed his eyes momentarily and opened them again, letting Anders take in the black orbs.  Then he blinked and stared at Anders’ shocked expression.  ‘Not so funny now, is it?’  He reached for his vodka and sipped.  Anders liked the strong stuff.  

‘I thought vampires were all fantasy… Wait til Mike hears this, smarmy bastard.’  Anders took another swallow and set his glass down.  Now it was Mitchell’s turn to be shocked.  

‘Wait… what? Mike?’  Aside from the laughter, this was another reaction he was not used to. 

Anders held Mitchell’s gaze for a minute before speaking again.  ‘Can you turn other people into vampires?  Or is there a head vampire that does that?  And I’ve seen you drinking beer and vodka and stuff, so does that mean you don’t need blood to survive?’

Mitchell leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  ‘Why aren’t you freaking out?  What are you?’

‘Answer my question.’

‘You answer mine.  I told you what I am, now it’s your turn.’ 

\- - - - -  

Anders probably should have realized laughing was not the thing to do in front of a vampire, but the whole situation was so absurd, it seemed like the best thing to do.  Only he would go on a quest to find Yggdrasil and get stuck in England and meet an Irish vampire.  What are the fucking odds of that happening?  Next thing he knows, werewolves will be real too. 

He didn’t bother with the build up.  ‘I’m a norse god.  Bragi- god of poetry.’ 

He watched Mitchell’s mouth twitch a little like he wanted to laugh, but he was stronger than Anders in that respect and tried to keep a straight face. 

‘Poetry?  As in Shakespeare?’ 

Anders sighed.  ‘As in my words can influence your actions.  It doesn’t work on the really strong willed individual, or vampires, as I have found out.’ 

Now Mitchell was smiling broadly, and damn if Anders didn’t like it.  ‘But… you CAN recite poetry, right?  Or do you make it up as you go?’ 

‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were making fun of me.’ Anders tried to look hurt but according to the look on Mitchell’s face; it wasn’t working.  

Now Mitchell started laughing.  ‘What are the chances?  A god and a vampire meet in a bar in London.  Oh, and I can’t forget George!  He’s my flatmate, and a werewolf.' 

This time, Anders did choke on his vodka, which only made Mitchell laugh even harder.  

Bloody vampire.


	5. Responsible Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get .... interesting at Anders' hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very sorry for the huge delay in updating. Things got out of hand, and today I got bitten hard by the inspiration bug after having put it off for so long. My veins are thrumming, and my fingers can feel more words aching to be let out. Promise I won't wait so long before my next update *crosses heart/swears on everything lovely*
> 
> (NOT beta'd, so all errors are definitely mine. If you notice something I missed in my proofreading, let me know and I'll fix it.)

Thinking back, it wasn’t the best idea either of them ever had.  Anders was always shit at making responsible decisions, and Mitchell just needed a nudge to push him over the edge.  That nudge came in the form of Anders ‘accidentally’ spilling his vodka on himself (he was coughing at Mitchell’s remark about George being a werewolf, so it wasn’t completely his fault) and decided he needed to change his shirt.  Without really thinking, he stood up and removed the offending material, catching Mitchell’s eyes as he dropped it into the floor.  Mitchell was no longer smiling.  A rush of panic flooded his system and for a split second he considered what his options were if he had to run.

But Mitchell didn’t move, even his breathing stopped.  Anders realized Mitchell probably breathed out of habit because he really didn’t need to.  The stillness in the room made Anders realize he’d never felt the air get sucked out of his lungs.  Until this point, Anders always considered himself the predator.  Standing in front of a vampire unable to read the expression on his face, Anders learned what it meant to be the prey. 

Mitchell’s voice broke the silence.  ‘I can’t.’

The words sunk into the air, laced with tension and something close to lust.  But was it for him, or for the blood running hot in his veins?  Anders’ pants started to get uncomfortably tight.

He was giving Anders an out, right now.  And fuck if that didn’t make Anders want this even more. 

Slowly, he crossed the short distance to the couch and pulled the glass out of Mitchell’s grip, setting it on the small table.  Then, before he decidedly lost his nerve, he  settled himself over Mitchell’s thighs and placed his hands on the man’s shoulders.  

‘I was always shit at making responsible decisions.  No reason to start now.’

\- - - - -  

It was the grip that caught him off guard.  Mitchell’s hands held his hips in place as Anders licked his way into the vampire’s mouth.  He noticed Mitchell was letting him set the pace, and the iron grip was probably to throw him off in case he felt himself losing control.  Anders couldn’t get the friction he wanted, but his hands curled into Mitchell’s hair and held him as his tongue moved.  Mitchell moaned and started kissing back, his hands shifted and dragged Anders closer until there wasn’t any space between them.  Anders couldn’t take a breath, afraid to pull back only to be pushed away for having crossed a line.  The coolness of Mitchell’s hands were welcome against Anders’ overheated skin, and his mind began to wander as to how the rest of his body would feel pressed up against the vampire’s, skin to skin.

A small part of his brain wondered if this counted as necrophilia, probably not the best thought to have while simultaneously trying to get into another man’s pants.  If anything, his erection pressed even harder against his jeans, and for a minute he considered himself as more fucked up than the rest of his family. 

‘Stop fuckin thinkin, damn you,’ Mitchell growled, not pulling his mouth away from Anders’.  ‘Keep thinkin and I’ll stop.’ 

Anders counted by surging forward, biting at Mitchell’s lower lip.  He could see stars behind his eyelids.  He needed to breathe. 

Mitchell must have sensed the desperation because he pushed against Anders’ chest with his hand, breaking the contact between their lips.  Anders sucked in a lungful of air and stared down at Mitchell’s face.  

‘Your eyes are black.’  He knew he should maybe freak out a little, or a lot, but the only thing he felt was the deep heat building in his spine and spiraling down to his groin.  Mitchell licked his lips.  

‘Don’t stop…’ Anders whispered, unwinding his hand from Mitchell’s curls and using it to unbutton his jeans.  He needed relief.  Mitchell’s hand stopped him.  He almost whined (that would have been really unmanly) until he felt Mitchell undoing his pants and releasing his cock from its prison.  Before he could protest, Mitchell’s hand wrapped around him and pulled.  The contrast in temperature made his head swim, and his head fell back as he thrust up into the cool grip.  All bets were fucking off.  

\- - - - -  

Mitchell knew he probably should stop.  He really should fucking stop.  He really, REALLY should just stop and walk away and never look back and god-fucking-damn it why couldn’t he just walk away?  Anders straddled his hips, his fingers pulled at his hair, his mouth ravaged his like his life depended on it.  Mitchell felt his skin absorb Anders’ heat, felt the way his erection pressed against his stomach, felt his own cock searching for release.  He doesn’t know what caused him to push Anders back and stare. 

‘Your eyes are black.’ 

He should stop.  

But his hand reached down and wrapped itself around Anders’ cock and the only thing he could focus on was how long the man over him would last.  How long could this god hold out before he spilled all over Mitchell’s hand?  Would he say something poetic or just moan?  Then Anders’ head felt back and Mitchell locked in on his neck.  He could see the blood coursing hard and rushing down.  He’d be lying if he said the desire to bite down on that exposed skin below his ear, just to taste, just to see how different god blood stood against human blood, wasn’t rushing to the forefront of his mind.  Would he develop a new taste for it?  Could he stop himself?  Would he want to? 

Anders pushed up against his hand trying to speed him up, but Mitchell’s other hand held his hips steady.  Anders’ hands gripped Mitchell’s shoulders in frustration.

‘Please… please…’ he breathed.  Sweat beaded in his face and neck, sliding down his naked chest.  Without thinking, Mitchell leaned forward and licked the strip of skin at his neck, feeling the blood pulse sweet against his tongue.  Tempting fate, he let his mouth rest against the pulse point, lips slightly parted, eyes shut tight, breathing in the sweet scent.  

He would not.  No.  He would not.   

Anders’ arms wrapped around Mitchell’s shoulders and held on tighter.

\- - - - -  

When Anders felt Mitchell’s mouth on his neck he almost yelled for him to stop.  The small survival part of his brain said this was the worst fucking idea he’d ever had, trumping that time he found those girls in his apartment with Zeb and Axl and he thought having a drink would be a good idea and next thing he knew he was naked with sharpie written all over him as Axl stood over him with a knife threatening his man-parts. 

Mitchell’s mouth didn’t move though.  Anders could feel his breath against his skin, the sensation of his tongue licking up the sweat sliding down his neck, but he didn’t feel teeth.  Fuck.  This had to be hard for him.  And here Anders was putting his safety and Mitchell’s sanity on the line by acting like a needy-. 

‘Stop fucking thinking Anders or I fucking swear to whatever fucking god you pray to-’ 

Anders let go with one hand and gripped Mitchell’s hair as hard as he could.  He turned his head so his mouth grazed Mitchell’s ear.  ‘Stop dicking around and make me cum, you-’ 

\- - - - - 

Mitchell’s grip tightened as he choked off whatever was coming next.  Anders moaned against his ear tried to thrust up against his hand again.  Mitchell let him, and pumped his hand faster.   

He felt Anders’ orgasm before it physically happened.  The smell of Anders’ skin got sweeter, and the eloquent ‘fucks’ and ‘ohs’ coming out of his mouth were far from poetic.  Anders’ body tightened and his pulse increased exponentially before he spilled over Mitchell’s hand, effectively getting his cum everywhere with the force of his orgasm.  Mitchell’s mouth didn’t move from his neck as his grip loosened and casually stroked Anders’ overstimulated cock, feeling the stutters of his body when he grazed the sensitive head.  Anders’ hand reached down to stop him, mumbling something about ‘too much’ and ‘hand is cold.’ 

Mitchell reluctantly let go, wiping his hand on Anders’ pants before settling it between Anders’ shoulder blades and pulling him closer as he leaned back against the sofa.  He felt Anders’ sink into him, turning his face so his nose rested against Mitchell’s neck.  Mitchell was vaguely aware of his own neglected erection, but feeling the waves of warmth coming off Anders as his heartbeat slowed down pushed those thoughts to the background.  Anders noticed Mitchell’s black eyes, the tell-tale sign of his being, and he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t notice the momentarily reflex to pull away.  But he kept going.  Anders did say he was shit at making responsible decisions.  Turns out Mitchell was too.  


	6. It's a Vamp meets Norse god thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after, Agnetha is a perceptive mother, and Annie pouts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS UP!! I felt like I would NEVER get to do it but ITS DONE! Well, this chapter anyway. Thanks for bearing with me. Enjoy :) Also, unbeta'd save for my quick review before posting.

Anders stood under the shower spray, letting the hot water run down his body.  The muscles in his back felt a little sore, but he didn’t mind.  The stiffness was a reminder of Mitchell and his hands, and his mouth.  It felt good. 

He let his mind wander back to the night before, when he let whatever inhibitions he had drop to the floor, discarded and forgotten.  He could argue he hadn’t been thinking clearly - the vodka went to his head, and that look Mitchell kept giving him screamed for it.  But he wouldn’t.  Anders didn’t want the night cheapened by a sorry explanation; just because he was Bragi, just because he was Anders, just because it was what he did.  Last night had been different. 

His hand absently touched his neck, the spot where Mitchell rested his mouth.  Anders’ cock twitched at the memory.

He pulled back and rinsed himself off, leaving his cock alone.  Now wasn’t the time.  He wanted to see Mitchell, wanted to walk out into the bedroom and see him laying in bed waiting for Anders to come back.   

But he wasn’t. 

As soon as Anders came around last night after what he considered to be the most mind-blowing orgasm ever (which he very clearly let Mitchell know, repeatedly), Mitchell slid himself out from under him, apologized for his behavior, and left.  Just fucking left.  It took Anders a few moments before he gathered his senses pulled up his pants to go after him.  When he reached the lobby, he was aware he looked a mess but he didn’t really care.  He didn’t even have shoes on when he flew outside into the street and looked around.   

Mitchell was gone.  And Anders never felt like more of a prick than he did in that moment, and he couldn’t even explain why.  It was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach; all he wanted was to crawl back to New Zealand and forget this ever happened.  Fuck Agnetha and Ygdrassil.  Fuck this quest.  Fuck the gods.

\- - - - - 

Mitchell sat in his room and stared at the wall.  He’d blown it.  He shouldn’t have left.  But he couldn’t have stayed.  He was toeing a dangerous line, one that always came back to bite him in the ass.  So what if he hadn’t technically fanged out on Anders last night?  What was to say it wasn’t a one-off?  If he had stayed and actually bitten him, where would that leave him?  It wasn’t like Anders’ family was exactly normal.  He didn’t want a mess of gods showing up in England looking for the guy that killed their family member.  

He had high-tailed it out of the hotel, knowing full well if Anders caught up to him that he would have been tempted to stay.  

He was such a coward.  And knowing he felt something for the pint size god made it even worse.  Humans he had learned to stay well enough away from in these situations.  But Anders wasn’t exactly human, right?

A shower sounded like a good idea.  He had come in rather loudly last night, and he knew Annie had heard him.  Maybe she’d leave well enough alone for a little while.

\- - - - - 

‘Bragi? What’s the matter with you?  I haven’t seen you look this sullen since Axl told you to stop sleeping around,’ Agnetha smirked, sipping her cup of whatever it was she had.  

‘Good evening, mother.  You’d be sullen too if you were stuck in the land of fish and chips.’ 

She tutted.  ‘Nonsense, England isn’t all bad.  And you got yourself a free hotel stay.  Something else is bothering you.’ 

Anders sighed. ‘I don’t really feel like talking about it.’ Agnetha’s eyebrow raised in curiosity.  Mothers, the sixth sense thing creeped Anders out.  ‘It’s fine, the sooner I leave here the better.’  She may be his mother but he didn’t want her ALL over his personal life. 

She looked skeptical but Anders was grateful she didn’t probe any further. ‘Alright darling, whatever you say.’ She took another sip. ‘Go sightseeing today or something, get outside.  It might be chilly but you’re in London.  You’re there for at least another four days.  I’m sure there’s something there that will pique your interest.’

Before Anders could reply, she cut the connection, and he was left staring at himself on the dark screen.  A little fresh air wouldn’t hurt, and it was early enough that he could do a fair amount of exploring.  He got up and walked over to the window; it looked relatively nice out.  No rain, no snow, the sun started to peak out but he wasn’t holding out much hope on that front.   

‘Sightseeing it is then.’  A Kiwi Norse god in the land of fish and chips.  This should be fun.

\- - - - -  

‘Annie, I don’t want to go anywhere today.  Can’t I just stay inside?’ 

The persistent ghost tapped her foot at the door of his room.  ‘NO. You’ve been cooped up in here all morning, looking sulky, and it’s actually a decent day out.  I want to go outside, but I don’t want to go alone.’

Mitchell grunted.  ‘Take George.’  He knew George wouldn’t want to go; he got in later than Mitchell last night.

She pouted and stepped inside.  ‘He’s too hungover from last night.  Come on, Mitchell.’

He looked over his shoulder at her, then back out the window.  It didn’t look like the sun would make a bold appearance as it intermittently cut through the thick cloud cover, and it didn’t look like rain or snow.  Resigned, he looked back over at Annie whose face already betrayed knowledge of Mitchell’s inevitable decision.   

‘Alright,’ he said, unable to stop a small grin from spreading on his face at Annie’s reaction.  ‘Let me get ready.’ 

‘I’ll totally buy you lunch,’ she exclaimed, backing out of the room.  

He chuckled.  ‘With what money?’ he called out after her, but she had already left. 

As he pulled on his sweater, he turned his attention back out the window.  London was a big city, no way he could run into Anders.  Annie’s company would keep his mind off last night, and the fresh air would do him some good.

 


	7. Tea for two, anyone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate is cruel mistress and a bitch but Anders loves her anywhere because London is a big city and go figure he'd run into that broody vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY! I'm really hoping to get back on track with this story. I sincerely thank everyone for their patience with me on this. Seriously, thank you. 
> 
> This is unbeta'd except for what I've read over and fixed. Any glaring grammar/fluidity/transitional errors, let me know and I'll fix it.

The wind bit into Anders’ exposed skin, and despite the layers of clothing he wore it still managed to worm its way underneath his jacket. Occasionally the stiff wind felt nice when he felt like he was overheating, but walking over the bridges where there was no building cover, he found himself almost jogging. Between the Eye and Parliament, the view was quite nice. Maybe he would hop on a train and visit a castle somewhere off in the countryside.  

He’d made up his mind to stop at a little cafe next to the Eye when fate just decided to play the cruel mistress.  

\- - - -  

‘Shit.’ 

‘What?’ Annie turned and followed Mitchell’s gaze to a man standing in a thick coat and plaid hat wrapped in a gray scarf with an equally shocked expression on his face. ‘Do you know him?’ 

His silence must have passed as affirmation. And no sooner did he open his mouth to voice his desire to leave, Annie decided to wave. And Anders waved back, although with all his enhanced vision, he couldn’t tell if that was a bad smirk or a good smirk. Or maybe it was a ‘what the fuck is my life’ smirk. Because that’s exactly how Mitchell felt this very second.  

\- - - -  

Not ten minutes passed since Annie guilted Mitchell into inviting Anders to tea because he looked like a popsicle that she ‘disappeared’ and left the two of them staring at each other over cooling mugs of Earl Grey.  

Brilliant.  

‘I didn’t know you could go out in daylight.’ 

So they weren’t talking about last night then. Mitchell didn’t know whether he should be relieved or apprehensive about where this conversation would lead.  

‘Bugger off, I do stuff.’ He chanced a quick glance around the cafe and noticed no one within their vicinity. He lowered his voice and leaned forward slightly. ‘Movies are overrated. Besides,’ he took a sip of his tea. ‘Annie’s a ghost, and you don’t see her haunting random pedestrians.’ 

He almost snorted into his mug when Anders’ eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head.  

‘What kind of city is this? Vampires, werewolves, now ghosts?’ He slumped in his seat and spun his mug between his hands. ‘I thought New Zealand was cool cuz we’re Norse gods. Figures there would be others out there to steal the thunder.’ He chuckled. 

Mitchell kind of wanted to kiss the dimple that formed on his cheek, but reigned it in and leaned back into his seat. ‘What’s funny?’  

Anders looked into his eyes, grin broadening. ‘I just know the god of thunder personally. Not at all like the movie portrays him. In fact, he’s kind of the exact opposite. And overprotective of his farm animals.’ Mitchell held his gaze until Anders turned away and looked out the window at the grey skies. ‘This kind of weather makes me miss home.’

_Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached. Don’t-_ ‘What’s New Zealand like?’ 

‘Weather’s a lot better, I can tell you that, especially right now. I almost completely forgot about the hemisphere change until my m- Agnetha reminded me. And even then- I did not expect for my flight to be cancelled because of weather issues.’  

Now Mitchell was confused. ‘Flight cancelled?’ He racked his brain trying to remember if they had this conversation already. 

Anders cleared his throat. ‘Yea, about that. I never got around to telling you that I’m here on a prolonged layover. The end destination is actually Norway.’ 

Mitchell was caught between relief and resounding disappointment, but years of schooling his features kept him neutral if only mildly intrigued. _Do not get attached._ ‘What’s in Norway?’ 

Anders waved his hand, concentrating hard on his mug. Steam no longer billowed off the surface. Mitchell wanted to pressure him into another cup, into a meal, into staying. _Stop it._ His own hands curled possessively over his mug, maybe a might too tightly. 

_\- - - -_  

‘Work, family business. It should only be for a week or so, maybe two if things get drawn out. Then I’ll be back in New Zealand, in the hemisphere of summer and beaches and half naked women.’ Anders could have bitten his tongue off at the last part. Internally, he flinched at how callous he sounded. He’d almost forgotten that Mitchell left him the night before without an explanation. Anders was no stranger to the ‘O-and-Go’ routine but from Mitchell it actually stung. Especially since Mitchell hadn’t gotten off. Normally that wouldn’t have bothered Anders either but still… 

Mitchell’s features didn’t change though, and Anders didn’t like the stone stillness. He really shouldn’t be sitting here having tea with a vampire he was steadily growing to like. It was a ridiculous notion, especially after only two days, and one half failed attempt at getting him into bed. He was in England for four, maybe five days, tops. Now was not the time to be launched headfirst into anything.  

‘Sounds like fun.’  

Anders watched as Mitchell took a long drink, watched his Adam’s apple, watched the long line of his neck. He was about to speak, make some off-hand remark about not sleeping around, but Mitchell cut him off. 

‘So what do you actually do? What is this family business?’ 

For some reason he couldn’t really name, Anders found himself getting upset. ‘You ask a lot of questions for someone who gives off the air of not giving a shit.’ 

Mitchell’s face grew colder, if that was even possible, but Anders definitely felt the chill in the room. He and Ty would get along great. They both could freeze a room in a matter of seconds and barely tolerated Anders.  

‘I suppose polite conversation doesn’t exist in New Zealand, does it? Forgive me for taking up your time.’  

\- - - -  

Mitchell was enjoying the conversation. He liked being around Anders, despite what his instinct was telling him about not letting himself get to close to the chatty god. It was kind of surreal, knowing Anders embodied a Norse god, one that spoke poetry and carried a harp (so he did some research, sue him.) Bragi was also supposed to be a wise god, and judging by what was spilling forth from his mouth, Mitchell would have assumed him to be more of a wanker than the god of poetry.  

‘I suppose polite conversation doesn’t exist in New Zealand, does it? Forgive me for taking up your time.’ He pushed back his seat and stood, half-hearing the choked sound of a protest escaping Anders’ mouth.  

Mitchell managed to make it outside before a hand grabbed his jacket. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m a spiteful shit and I have no brain/mouth filter because my family is full of arseholes who make it their daily game to rile me up. Sarcasm and cynicism are my defense mechanisms. That was a fucked up thing to say, and I apologize for saying it.’ 

He didn’t turn around completely, letting his jaw work and his teeth grind. Anders was infuriating. And Mitchell was infuriating himself.  

‘You are kind of an arse.’ He said it trying to be serious, but even to him it sounded like a teasing comment. There was some heat behind it, but not as much as there would have been had he said it before Anders’ attempt at an apology. 

The fingers on his coat loosened and started to pull away, but only slipped a little further down his arm, still clinging lightly on the leather. They stood in silence for a short time, neither of them really knowing what to say, least of all Mitchell but he suspected Anders was having trouble with the slightly awkward silence since he kept shifting his feet.  

‘Do you-?’ 

‘I thought-‘ 

They both chuckled, and the grin he felt spreading across his face felt good. He was still mildly upset, but he thought back and realized that Anders was within his rights to be spiteful after what Mitchell did the night before. He’d beaten himself up over it, but had resigned himself to not running into Anders again and having to deal with an awkward situation. Clearly, fate had other plans. But right now, Mitchell was having a hard time remembering why those plans couldn’t mean something good. 

‘So, apology accepted?’ The question came out softly, quietly, like he was almost afraid Mitchell would turn him down. He was not sure he could respond without sound eager so he just nodded, and he could feel the fingers on his jacket clench momentarily before realizing they were still touching and then quickly dropped away.  

When he finally turned his head and caught those blue eyes, he felt the last bits of anger slip out of him. The frustration was still there though. But he figured that if he was going to spend time with Anders, if only a few more days, he was going to have to get used to that.  

‘So, do you want to go back to my place? Meet a werewolf, have lunch, talk about-‘ he gestured at the air between them. ‘-this?’ Mitchell was trusting himself, and putting trust in Anders that he wouldn’t push. He had to explain last night, why he was so reluctant, why he left. 

\- - - -  

Anders hated running after people, which is probably why he never did it. Ever.  

And yet he found himself running after a guy he barely knew to apologize for words he both had and hadn’t meant to say because he actually felt guilty about saying them.  

He was losing his mind. Just plummeting headfirst into something he wouldn’t be able to control. But he wasn’t ready to let go of this. Not when he had questions, and not when he wanted to give Mitchell his answers. 

So when Mitchell asked him to go back to his place, Anders felt his stomach knot and his chest clench up.  

‘Yea,’ he said, the smile on his face widening. ‘I’d like that.’


	8. A werewolf, a vampire, a ghost, and a demi-god

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders meets Mitchell's flatmates, poor George walks into the kitchen at the wrong time, and Anders finds out Mitchell's first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing overtly explicit aside from some vampire!handling and boy kissing. And allusions to debauchery.  
> Beta'd by asadminqamar.

George officially won the award for being the world’s most unimpressive werewolf. 

Seriously. Anders almost wanted to pump him full of silver bullets, or whatever killed werewolves, to put him out of the misery he seemed to be wallowing in every day of his life. 

“George,” he said, turning to the man curled up against the arm of the sofa with a cup of tea in his pale hands. “You do realize there are upsides to this, right? So you get out of control one day a month, what’s the big deal? Imagine if you had to deal with it for SEVEN days out of a month. Every month. Until you got pregnant.” He arched an eyebrow towards Mitchell, whose head was currently thrown back in exasperation. “CAN male werewolves get pregnant? I mean, what if you-”

“NO! What the-?! _Can male werewolves get pregnant?_ Where the hell did you read that bit of nonsense?” George looked offended, and kind of scandalized, which was a better look than self-deprecating. 

Anders shrugged. Before he could respond, Annie materialized and sat down between them on the sofa. It was weird how she could be corporeal one minute and then nothing more than a projection the next. 

“The internet, George. Honestly, it’s like you live in the dark ages sometimes.” Annie reminded Anders of Stacy in a weird way. He liked her. He wondered briefly what it’d be like to shag a ghost. 

“I do not,” the sullen boy (because that’s what he was to Anders) replied, sinking deeper into the cushion like he wanted it to swallow him whole. 

Anders got an idea, and it looked like Mitchell read his mind because his features alternated between _yes_ and _don’t you dare_.

“George, look at me.” Bragi surfaced and took over. He felt Annie’s pause and an odd heat radiated from her body. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mitchell’s hand gesture for her to relax. The heat didn’t fade, but Annie did get up and move to the other side of the room. He had no idea if this would work on George or not given his status as a ‘supernatural being.’ It was worth a shot in any case. 

\- - - - - 

Mitchell sat motionless as he heard Anders command George’s attention. In his bones, Mitchell felt an odd pang that he quickly pushed aside. Bragi did not affect him the way he affected humans, but the distinct timbre of his voice made Mitchell long for something he wasn’t aware he longed for. At this point, that something didn’t even have a name. 

“George.” A simple command. Mitchell thought George would be immune to it but apparently not since he slowly turned his head towards Anders. 

“Yes?” He was shaky, like he knew something was different but was unable to place it. Mitchell let his body ease forward slowly until he rested his elbows on his knees. 

Anders breathed out. “Listen to me: you are a human being who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You were turned into a werewolf against your will, and it is not something to be ashamed of. There is no reason that you should not be allowed to be happy like everyone else out there in the world.”

George scoffed, but didn’t break eye contact. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got your good looks and that voice that could charm anyone out of their clothes.”

Mitchell let out a soft breath, still unsure if Bragi was having an effect. Apparently, Anders had a method of checking. 

“George, put down your mug and stand up in the center of the room.”

Even Annie was biting her lower lip as she watched George turn the mug once in his hands before setting it down gently next to the sofa and standing up.

_Holy shit._ Mitchell felt the left corner of his mouth twitch up. _Maybe this could work._

Anders stood up next to him and Mitchell became keenly aware of how slight Anders was, even next to George. And something stirred in his trousers. _Now was definitely not the time._

“I want you to look at me and tell me what you are.”

“I’m a werewolf.”

Bragi shook his head. “What are you, George?”

George bit his lower lip and clenched his hands at his sides. “I-“

“Say it.” That sensation Mitchell had in his gut expanded to his chest. If he could blush, he definitely would have red coloring his cheeks. In that moment, he wished Anders could control him with that Bragi for reasons that were less than saintly. 

“I am… human.”

“Again.”

“I am human.”

“And what do you have the right to be?”

“I have the right to be happy.”

Anders smiled, and Mitchell found himself wishing he could keep that smile with him forever. 

\- - - - - 

Bragi felt strangely warm at having George repeat his words knowing Mitchell was watching. So Anders could control werewolves, but he assumed George was a sort of fluke because of how low his self-esteem was. Anders always had better luck manipulating those who did not have stronger personalities, those who knew certain things about themselves but didn’t want to admit it. George already knew he was human, the beast in him was something he would have to live with: it was his burden in the world. George also knew he had a right to be happy just like every other person. The only thing is that he needed that push to admit it to himself, and to believe it. 

Anders thought about Ty - and his chest clenched tightly. He wanted desperately to convince Ty about how important he was, but every time he opened his mouth, his intentions were misconstrued. Never had he tried using Bragi on members of his family (except that one time Mike was being a complete ponce, which arguably could be any day) because it wasn’t fair. In his defense, he would be offering Ty an opportunity to be happy despite the shitty lot he drew with Norse gods. Anders loved him though, even with those cold hands. _Cold hands, warm heart, isn’t that what they say, Tyrone?_

He became vaguely aware that everyone was staring at him, and that George had an soft and blissful look on his face. He looked younger than he did when Anders first walked in. 

“I- uh- think I’m going to go sleep for a little while,” George said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “It was nice to meet you, Anders.” The curved smile was genuine as he held out his hand. 

“Same here.”

He waited for George to retreat up the stairs before turning his attention to Mitchell and Annie, both of whom stared at him intently. 

“What? I’m shocked it even worked actually. I thought he was going to be another you.” He gestured at Mitchell. 

“You’re such a sweetheart, Andy,” Annie reached out and ruffled his hair. Mitchell snickered. “It’s almost hard to believe you’re the reason Mitchell walked around all depressed-like. Almost lived up to the whole ‘broody vampire’ persona that seems to be so popular with the kids these days.”

“I was not! And I am not!”

Anders wasn’t sure which direction to go with that statement. “ _Andy_? Seriously?” He turned to Mitchell, trying his hardest to keep a straight face. “You do pull off the ‘broody’ look rather well, darling. You’re doing it now, in fact. It’s rather fetching actually.”

Annie giggled uncontrollably as Mitchell glared at Anders. “You’re not funny.”

“On the contrary, Annie seems to think I’m quite amusing.” He looked back over at her. “I rather fancy you, provided you don’t call me _Andy_ again. Too many childhood memories I’d rather not relive.”

\- - - - - 

“Hear that Mitchell, he _fancies_ me.”

“With stipulations. I don’t just _fancy_ anybody. Especially not people who call me _Andy._ ”

“But you fancy Mitchell, yea?”

Mitchell froze. “Annie- You don’t have to answer that. She forgets manners are a thing.” He busied himself picking up the empty mugs around the living room and taking them into the kitchen. If he were capable of blushing, his entire face would be blazing. He turned on the water in the sink and made as much noise as he could to drown out whatever was being said in the next room. He didn’t notice when Anders came in and nudged his side.

“Hey.”

“Sorry about that. Annie sometimes-“ A hand reached into the soapy water and closed over one of his. Mitchell stopped moving, torn between pulling away or looking at Anders. 

“It makes me jealous when you use your powers on other people.” He blurted. “I know it doesn’t work on me but I can still hear it, and I just…I don’t like it. Makes me feel like I’m missing out on something.”

When Anders didn’t say anything, Mitchell began to feel like a complete ponce but he couldn’t stop talking.

“I know I have no right to be jealous, I barely know you. You’re only here for a few days, and then you go back to New Zealand.”

He barely registered the flick of Anders’ hand until water started soaking through his shirt and into his skin. “What was that for?”

Anders smirked and arched an eyebrow. “Stop overanalyzing. And in case our chance encounter earlier today wasn’t enough to convince you, then I’ll just out and say it: I fancy you, John Mitchell. Despite the jealousy, which is unfounded I might add, although it is rather adorable.” 

Mitchell felt Anders’ damp hand curl into his shirt, guiding him away from sink full of dishes and into the same space. “Now, let’s try this again shall we?”

Before Mitchell could respond, Anders leaned up and captured his mouth. Mitchell’s hands gripped the counter at Anders’ sides, willing himself to stay in control. Anders’ tongue brushed across his lower lip and teased the seam of his mouth. “I trust you, John… Just let me in…” He muttered. Mitchell felt warm hands at his sides, sliding up underneath his shirt onto his cool skin. 

“I don’t want to hurt you…” His mind flashed to the night before, Anders pliant and hot over him; he wanted that again. But he didn’t want to tempt fate twice. 

“Will you just trust me when I say I know what I’m doing? If I thought you could hurt me, I wouldn’t be here now, so just-“ 

Mitchell’s hands tore away from the counter in favor of wrapping an arm around Anders’ slim waist and hauling him onto it instead. “Stupid, reckless poet,” he accused, the only heat in his voice came from the growing arousal he felt working its way up his spine.

“Broody, melodramatic vampire,” Anders responded, pulling Mitchell closer. 

“Oh for God’s sake! If you’re going to have sex, please don’t do it where people prepare food!” 

Mitchell sprung away from Anders, nearly toppling him from the counter onto the floor. 

“Jesus, George. We thought you were sleeping.” He ran a hand through his hair, casting an apologetic glance at a very amused looking Anders. “What are you smiling at?”

He shook his head as he slide off the counter. “George, you wouldn’t mind finishing those dishes, would you?” Mitchell heard Bragi, but Anders’ eyes held his steady. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t put his stomach in knots. 

“What? So you can go and make out in some other part of the house?” Mitchell could see him out of his periphery decidedly avoiding looking at either of them as he rummaged around in the cabinets. “Besides, I thought you swore off the sex for reasons.”

Before he could respond, Bragi spoke up again. “He did, until I came along. Turns out Mitchell here has a soft spot for Kiwis. So George, if you don’t mind.”

George waved them off. “You owe me. And keep it down, for God’s sake.”

Mitchell grabbed Anders’ hand and pulled him out of the kitchen towards the stairs. “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?” he said, once they reached the hall. “And how do you know my first name?” He pushed his bedroom door open, revealing a mess. Great.

“Not always, but most of the time.” Anders didn’t spare the room a second glance as he got into Mitchell’s space. “And Annie told me after you stomped off into the kitchen. I like it.” His hands found their way under his shirt again, fingers lighting brushing across his skin. Mitchell stopped his hands and caught his eyes.

“For my sanity, I need to know you’re sure about this.”

\- - - - - 

The last time Anders wanted to get into someone’s pants this badly was a decidedly long time ago, and right now, Anders wanted nothing more than to get Mitchell out of his clothes and into bed… wherever that was. The room looked more like a nest than a bedroom, but he supposed vampires nested. At least he didn’t have a coffin. Anders was kinky, but not THAT kinky. The pleading look in Mitchell’s eyes stopped him as he forced himself to take a deep breath. 

“Yes, I’m sure. We can talk about it after, at great length if that is what your unbeating heart desires.”

He waited for Mitchell to nod before bringing his hands up to the vampire’s face. “Now kiss me like you mean it or I’ll go find someone who will.”

Mitchell knew he was teasing him, but the thought of someone else kissing that plush mouth short-circuited his brain as he none-to-gently pushed Anders against the wall, picking him up so his legs wrapped around Mitchell’s waist. “You wouldn’t.”

“No. But I might if you-“

The kiss was bruising, even by Mitchell’s standards. He wrestled with trying to get Anders’ one thousand layers off without breaking contact. He gave up on the last one and ripped it off his body, growling in the process. 

“Hey…” He registered warm hands on his face, blue eyes staring into his. “Stay here with me, not going anywhere…”

They stayed like that for a long moment, breathing each other’s air as Mitchell forced himself to slow down. He nodded and slowly lowered Anders to the floor when he realized his thighs were shaking from the effort. 

“Sorry, I’m just not used to this,” he whispered, not able to pull himself away from Anders’ warmth.  

“Neither am I, but I’m not sure that helps the situation any,” Anders responded, tilting his head to the side. “Are you smelling me?”

Mitchell froze. “I just- It’s-“ He hadn’t been aware he was doing it until Anders pointed it out and he realized his face was pressed up against his neck. “You smell good.”

Anders chuckled, sending a vibration through Mitchell’s body that shouldn’t have felt as good as it did. “Well alright, if you say so. But how about we do this horizontally, yea? If you can find your bed in this…nest.”

Mitchell snorted against Anders’ neck, nosing along the pulse point. “It’s cozy.”

“Whatever you say. And take off your shirt. I’m not going to be the only one half naked. Again.”

“Are you always this bossy?” He asked, moving away enough to pull off his sweater and undershirt. 

“Yes, now ravish me properly.”

Mitchell couldn’t help the grin that broke out across his face as he tackled Anders onto the mattress. “Your godly wish, my command.”

“That’s more like it.”

This time, when their lips met, Mitchell himself go, trusting in Anders to catch him. 


End file.
